


Secondhand Smoke

by breezblocks



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2doc - Freeform, M/M, Phase 1, nasty fic for nasty people, noncon, stuart is catatonic but can move only a little bit. hes not aware of anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-05-08 01:53:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14683971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breezblocks/pseuds/breezblocks
Summary: Murdoc is stuck with the nearly catatonic Stuart, bored, horny, and high. He makes do.





	1. Chapter 1

         “God, you look awful,” Murdoc growled out, his throat burning as he took another drag from a joint. Stuart Pot, his ‘ward’, sat across from him, fixed with a hard glare. Well, slumped was more accurate. Despite him surviving major trauma, the stubborn fucker seemed stuck in a catatonic state. The doctors didn’t seem to know or care about if the kid was gonna wake up or not. And honestly, Murdoc didn’t care either. What he did care about was the fact that he still had to take care of the kid since his court order still technically applied. Annoyed, he took another drag and blew the rest of his smoke in Stu’s face. The only reaction he pulled was his slack mouth opening wider. pathetic.

         “What was that, kiddo? You wanna smoke too?” Murdoc chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. It wasn’t like he hated Stuart. He was just useless and chased off any potential birds. And probably ruined now, that one blood-filled eye was a blemish on his otherwise beautiful face. Almost absentmindedly, he leaned forward as well, pressing his joint against Stu’s lips, holding it there. The reaction he got was instantaneous with Stuart jolting and biting his tongue. Murdoc couldn’t help but laugh as he gave the almost absent kid a harsh slap on the back, causing him to double over on himself.

         He gave the limp boy a nudge with his foot, grin widening when he groaned. Murdoc held the joint in his teeth as he reached down and grabbed the kid by the back of his hair, tugging him back up on the couch beside him this time.

         “Now Stuey that ain’t no way t’ act! You’re  gonna fuckin waste it!” Murdoc chuckled, mostly to himself. He wondered distantly if the other could even hear him, or if he did if he understood? ….Was it correct to call him a retard? Could Murdoc park in handicapped parking lots? Letting his laugh die down, he took another lungful of the sweet smoke before tugging Stu’s broken body onto the couch beside him, wrapping an arm absentmindedly around his shoulders. He turned to him, frowning in thought. Could Stu even get high like this? Experimentally, he took a hold of his wards face, pulling him forward and running his thumb over his lips. Well. He guessed this was the only way he could find out. Stuart’s dumb empty expression would surely be enough to keep him from really enjoying this.

         He took another drag before pressing his lips against his slack-jawed partner, prying his mouth open with his tongue. Stu groaned at the smoke being passed between them, his face twitching as he pressed against the other instinctually. Murdoc pulled back after a minute, still cupping his slack face. He couldn’t help but grin at Stuart’s dumb expression and the soft wheezes escaping him.

“You’re breathing out before it hits you, idiot. Let’s try that again.”

         Another drag and he was again connecting their mouths, pushing more smoke into Stuart’s fragile lungs. Surprisingly, he was met with a tongue pathetically pressing forward, instinct guiding the weak broken boy next to him. Maybe he understood and was trying to push Murdoc away, or maybe his body was just moving on its own. Either way, it sent chills down the satanist’s spine.

         He pulled away, letting hand slipped down from Stu’s face to his hips, pushing his shirt up and digging his nails in, dragging a whine from the other's lips. Despite the heavy haze of the high, Murdoc was vaguely aware of the extremely dubious nature of this. But again he couldn’t bring himself to care, instead reveling in the feeling of Stuart’s subtle curves. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure that he deserved to be able to push his half hard cock up against him, after the months of torturous care he needed.

         Lazily, he guided Stu’s limp body against his, watching the faint movement behind his ruined eyes. 

         “That’s not too bad now is it, dents? You ever did this with your slut girlfriend before?” Murdoc mumbled, feeling more confident with his movements. He ground up against Stuart, arousal flaring up with the thought of being the boys first. It was unlikely, but  _ god,  _ it turned him on. Even more arousing than that, however, was the growing tent in Stu’s pants. It made sense that his body would react, even if he most likely couldn’t comprehend it. The idea that Stu didn’t comprehend, that he couldn’t consent though, it caused a sinking feeling in his chest, one he hadn’t felt since his dad bent him over his knee. The thought was petrifying. So Murdoc stopped thinking. 

         The subtle friction between them sparked a fire that had Murdoc pulling his jeans off. His belt was already undone and he tugged it from the rings in his jeans easily. Stu’s body was easily puppeted to the floor, his mouth already hanging open. Hastily, Murdoc guided his cock into his mouth, groaning at the feeling of gums rubbing against his length. He twined his free hand with that electric blue hair, enamored with the view of that pretty boy on his knees, breathing heavily despite an absent look on his face, his throat tightening instinctually around him. Murdoc could almost swear he saw movement behind his ruined eyes. 

         It almost made Stuart come to life under him, his cheeks flushing from lack of oxygen, those empty eyes tearing up as Murdoc rutted into the heat of his mouth. Spit welled up, coating him and easing him as he forced himself deeper into his glassy-eyed angel. He can hear the sounds of Stu’s body fighting against the intrusion with those quiet gurgles and whines. Almost made him feel bad for him. Almost. 

         Not enough to stop him from gripping the back of that pretty head of blue hair and drawing back before slamming home again, fucking the unconscious boy's mouth vigorously. It was all too easy to ignore the bile bubbling around him through the pleasure. In no time at all, Murdoc was pressing Stu’s face flat against him as he forced his cum down his the slack-jawed kid's throat. With a sigh, he slumped back against the couch, letting his white-knuckled grip in Stuart’s hair drop. Stuart only lets out a small whine as he crumpled to the floor, his head thudding hard against the floor, his open mouth dripping drool and cum. As Murdoc gazed down at his ward, he couldn’t help but smile. Maybe taking care of this brain-dead oaf wouldn’t be so bad now that he’d found a use for him. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc thinks. No smut, that would be in later chapters. I may update slowly but I've got grand plans.

The first thing Murdoc saw when he woke up was himself, distorted and ugly. It was only after he was startled and fell off the couch that he realized he was reflected back in Stuart’s milky black eye. As he stood and regarded his unconventional guest, he briefly considered something. Maybe Stuart could really see him in there, could understand what happened last night and was silently screaming for help. But then again, maybe he was just hungover. The slight guilt was replaced with smug satisfaction at how the others lips were still red and bruised from last night, dried cum still smeared on his face. The phone rang in the distance, jolting him from his thoughts.

With that, he pushed Stuart aside with his foot and sauntered into the kitchen to get a beer. He was tired, sore, and irritable, the only solace for the awful migraine coming on was more alcohol. The phone continued ringing, and he let it go to voicemail. Whoever wanted to call this early can be greeted by the scathing answering machine message he left. But he almost jumped when he heard, instead of some salesman or bill collector, a female voice. She barely got a word out before Murdoc snatched the phone up, putting it to his ear. 

“Murdoc here, who do I have the ...pleasure of talking to, eh?” 

“It’s Paula, you know, we met in court?” A female voice replied, her voice a bit slurred. He couldn’t tell if she had been drinking too, or if it was just her awful accent. 

He chuckled. “Which one dear, you’d be surprised how many calls I get like this.”

“From Stuart’s, I think it’s really nice what you’re doing for him, I really appreciate it. I know it’s a lot of hassle but he’s a sweet thing.” 

“You appreciate it, huh?” He cut right to the chase. “How about you come over and ...pay me back for all that kindness, eh?” 

There was a pause, and he thought she was considering it until the careful reply came back,

“I’m Stu’s girlfriend.”

Murdoc slammed down the phone hard. 

A week and a half went by without incident, things back to as normal as they could be for Murdoc. It was almost like the encounter with Stuart had never happened. He certainly didn’t tell anyone. And it wasn’t like Stuart was going to be talking either. It was like it had no effect on the world. So it wasn’t a surprise to him when he had drank himself silly again, he felt himself gravitate back to the boy, bottle in hand. Stuart lay on the bedroom floor before him, eyes vacant and mouth agape. Murdoc smirked. 

“What, you’re not gonna invite me over?” 

No reply. Of course. But he took this as an invitation to flop down next to him. Murdoc went to took a swig then, realizing the bottle was empty he stopped. He rolled onto his back with a sigh. That was half a bottle of gin, and he went through it all himself. Alone. In his shit apartment, in his shit town, with shit pay and no way out. He cussed his father for putting him here, then stopped, realizing the hypocrisy of it all. A sick feeling welled in his stomach. He was turning out just like him. 

He rose with a growl, throwing the empty bottle at the wall where it exploded with a crash. He could hear people arguing in the distance. He could feel that anxiety in his chest welling up. Where was it before? When he was stealing church shingles, when he was drinking himself to sleep, when he was fucking Stuart’s face- 

Murdoc swung around to see the boy, still unconscious on his floor. He pointed at him with a shaking hand. 

“You- you’re-“ the words died in his throat. The noise of his surroundings dulled by the noiseless thoughts in his head. Another sigh, shakier this time, wracked his body and he dropped down to his knees with a sigh. 

“I must be cursed,” Murdoc finally muttered. He grabbed Stuart roughly by the hair, pulling his head into his lap to pet like a limp cat. “Things just keep bloody worsening. All my bands have been absolute failures, and every venue is shit.” He exaggerated this with a sharp tug at Stuart’s hair. “Did you know I shagged this bird the other day and she wanted me to pay her? It’s fucking ridiculous.” A feeling of calm settled over the room, despite the cars blaring past, the couple yelling next door, those intrusive thoughts. 

“...It didn’t have to be like this, y'know. You could have just died and gave me prison time. I’d probably run into Hannibal there, so that’s something. Course it ain’t like you can get mad or anything, you zombie.” Murdoc chuckled. He surveyed the room, huffing slightly in annoyance at the mess he made. “Don’t think your girlfriend coulda taken care of you the way I take care of you though. She sounded like a bigger wreck than I am.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a good listener?”

**Author's Note:**

> don't kill me and maybe ill continue this   
> <:3


End file.
